


Love You With Your Wings (These Are Your Skies)

by Doodsxd



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Assumptions, Boys In Love, Bullying, Draco Malfoy Needs a Hug, Dumbledore is amused, Established Relationship, Fairytales are real, Fluff and Angst, Good Draco Malfoy, Happy Ending, Harry is Clueless, Hermione is clueless, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Idiots in Love, Kissing, M/M, Magic, McGonagall is not amused, Miscommunication, Muggle/Wizard Relations, POV Draco Malfoy, Post-War, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Romance, Romantic Soulmates, Sad and Sweet, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Tenderness, Those kids gave her enough grief, True Love, Wizarding Culture (Harry Potter), Wizarding Politics (Harry Potter), Wizarding Traditions (Harry Potter), Wizarding Wars (Harry Potter), Wizarding World (Harry Potter), dumb boys in love, dumbledore is a little shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:16:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23329120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doodsxd/pseuds/Doodsxd
Summary: But, as luck had him, Potter didn’t let go either, holding him as desperately as Draco clung to him. They navigate their friend’s strangeness to their relationship, navigated through hexes and Finite Incantatem and a lot of Howlers burned during breakfast, hand on each other’s, constant, solid presences on each other sides.And while Draco had a little mark on his chest promising all his love to someone else, he couldn’t care less, because he already had all the love he wanted, all the love he could wish for.He could only hope Harry felt the same about him.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 22
Kudos: 483





	Love You With Your Wings (These Are Your Skies)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [larrydontbesad](https://archiveofourown.org/users/larrydontbesad/gifts).



> Hello!  
> So, larrydontbesad asked for fluff, light, established relationship drarry.   
> I'm not sure I delivered. There is a lot of angst here, because happiness apparently isn't something I can write about.  
> Oh well.  
> Title from "Again" by Kehlani, highly recommend this song.   
> I hope you enjoy it!

**Love You With Your Wings (These Are Your Skies)**

_ by doodsxd _

_ for larrydontbesad _

It really wasn’t a big deal. 

Yes, all wizard and witches were born with a mark upon their skin, a mark that spoke to their soul’s deepest desire, the person who was born for them, with whom they’d eventually have it all. 

And yes, as a child he had been clueless, innocent to what the world would ask of him, of what his life reserved for him, therefore he never bothered with the stories too much. 

It only caught up to him, that wish, that  _ longing _ for someone who could hold space for all that he was when he was already in the deep of the war, alone like he had never been before, ordered to kill and maim and destroy the only world that he knew. 

That was when he wished, more than anything, that his heart would find a place to rest, a place to  _ be _ , where his soul could take the armour off, no need for defenses, no conflicts or war. Where he could bleed in peace. 

But as things were, he managed to survive the war, and he and Harry Potter, of all people, had gravitated towards each other right at the first month of their eighth year of Hogwarts. Draco had always thought that, should they ever become friends, they would dance between hostility and sarcasm, a connection based on wits and practical jokes, but he had been incredibly wrong. 

It was  _ sweet _ . Tooth-rotting sweet in a way the youngest Malfoy never pictured himself enjoying. Bonded over nightmares and a deep knowledge of each other, collected throughout all those years just  _ watching _ ; in one moment they were sitting side by side, watching their shared Common Room’s fire while discussing Quidditch, the next Potter’s lips were on his. 

Draco felt again that fire, the one that always made him feel so alive -- but this time it hadn’t been prompted by anger, but with honeyed sweetness and amber heat. On that night Draco just  _ knew _ there was no one else for him, even if Potter decided their time was through and he wanted to go explore the world and his fan’s mouths, he would still be there, like always,  _ watching _ , satisfying his need for Potter from the sidelines, being a witness to everything he was. 

But, as luck had him, Potter didn’t let go either, holding him as desperately as Draco clung to him. They navigate their friend’s strangeness to their relationship, navigated through hexes and  _ Finite Incantatem _ and a  _ lot _ of Howlers burned during breakfast, hand on each other’s, constant, solid presences on each other sides. 

And while Draco had a little mark on his chest promising all his love to someone else, he couldn’t care less, because he already had all the love he wanted, all the love he could wish for. 

He could only hope Harry felt the same about him. 

____________________________________________________________________________

“Aren’t you afraid?” Pansy asked him one afternoon, both lying on the grass, soaking up the last rays of sunshine.

Her mark on her wrist, Draco had always wondered why people thought she was in love with  _ him _ , when her eyes were always on Blaise, like they were now, while Blaise and Harry threw a muggle ball from one part to the other, running around in a game Draco didn’t bother grasping the rules of. 

“Of what?” He asked, even though he knew. 

“That he finds his soulmate.” She said, looking at her mark, touching it with the tips of her fingers. “That it isn’t you.” 

Draco hummed. “Yes. And no.” 

“How come?” 

He looked, really  _ looked _ at Harry. Despite the sleepless nights, he looked happier and healthier than Draco had ever seen him, running shirtless underneath the sun. He was even earning himself a tan, with how long they had been spending outside, away from walls that gathered so many memories, so much blood. 

“He’s not one to allow destiny to rule his actions, his affections,” Draco explained. “And neither am I, not anymore.”

“But it’s his  _ soulmate _ , Draco.” She reminded him gravely. “He has seen your mark, right?” 

“Yes,” He answered her, eyes afar. They didn’t do much, yet, opting to take it slow, but Harry  _ had _ seen him changing shirts once or twice. He remembered how those green eyes had stopped over the little black mark on his chest, how Harry had blushed and averted his eyes, as if that was too intimate of a place to look. 

In a way, it was. 

“And he didn’t say anything?” Pansy insisted, a look of regret and compassion on her face, empathy for his situation, empathy she couldn’t possibly understand, having found her soulmate at the age of eleven. 

“No.” Draco replied, avoiding her eyes. He couldn’t let reality contaminate his dream, not now. 

The girl sat up and touched his arm, prompting him to look at her. “I’m only trying to look out for you.” She declared. “You know that, right?” 

He smiled, took her hand and kissed the back of it like she was precious; and she was. He had, more than once, wished her mark matched his. How life would be so much easier if that was the case. “I know, Pans. Don’t worry.” 

She squeezed his hand and laid back down, content to stay in silence while he plucked soulmate thoughts away from his mind as if they were bothersome weeds. Because he found all the love that he needed, all the love he could possibly want, and nothing would take that away from him - nothing apart from Harry himself. 

And, by the way the boy was smiling stupidly at him, celebrating the victory over a stupid muggle game on a sunny afternoon like he could give him the world, Draco didn’t think Harry planned on doing that anytime soon. 

It was all he could ask for. 

_______________________________________________________________________

“Nightmare?” He was asked as soon as he left his room and got to the Eighth Year Common Room. 

“Yes.” He made his way to the couch, tucking himself beside Harry, who received him with an arm around his shoulders. 

Draco stared at the fire for a while before speaking again, trying to measure his words. Harry smelled of cinnamon and vanilla, it was hard to think. 

“Do you ever wonder what they’re like?” He put a hand over the Gryffindor’s chest, head over his heart. Reassuring himself that he could have this. 

“Who?” Harry asked, eyes shut. And Draco hated him, just a little bit, for making him say it. 

“The one who marked you.” He explained, unable to bring himself to say the word  _ soulmate _ . 

Harry hummed. “I know what they’re like.” He answered. 

That made Draco’s heart skip a beat. Harry  _ knew _ his soulmate? 

He sat upright, scrutinizing his boyfriend’s face. “When?”

“A long time ago.” Harry shrugged. “Too long.” 

His heart twisted inside his chest, painfully. “And why aren’t you with them?” 

Harry’s frown bordered on angry. “What kind of question is that?”

“Just answer me!” Draco asked,  _ pleaded _ .  _ Say you love me _ , his whole being sang, vibrating, skin slipping away, leaving him raw and tender to the touch. “ _ Please. _ ”

“You know why, Draco.” Harry shook his head. “Why are you bringing this up now?” 

And really,  _ why _ was he bringing it up? 

Even if his time with Harry was counted, he should be counting his blessings that he  _ had _ any. That he could have this, Harry’s heart beating peacefully underneath his ear, reassuring him that the Boy Who Lived came back from the dead and chose him to love, chose him to care for, for as long as he had. 

“No reason.” The Slytherin answered and laid his head back down on Harry’s chest, hearing to the cadence of his breath, soaking up his warmth the same way he would soak up the sun just before the winter solstice came. 

He had lost too much already. He would not, in any way, let himself miss on this, just because he was afraid that it would end.

Because everything was going to end. No point in mourning the inevitable before the time for it to die came. 

_________________________________________________________________________________

A month went by before the Weasley girl - Ginny - was back around, finally through with mourning her brother. 

Harry brightened up immediately when he saw her, hugging and spinning her right in the middle of the Great Hall. 

And it wasn’t like Harry deliberately excluded Draco of things. Draco just slipped in the shadows, in the background, away from their eyes, and Harry… 

Harry didn’t notice. 

So when he had been studying in the library, still recovering from the Stinging Hexes thrown his way, he wasn’t surprised to see Ginny Weasley pulling a chair to sit in front of him. 

“So.” She interrupted the silence, ignoring Madam Pince’s shushing from the front desk. “You and Harry.”

He steeled himself. 

She looked confident, unbothered. Like she knew her place in the world; like she knew what was hers was coming back to her, eventually. 

“Yes?” Draco asked, closing his notebook, giving her his full attention. 

But Ginny just smiled, a little bittersweet, if anything. “Just take care of him, okay?” 

_ Take care of what’s mine before I take it back _ .  _ Heal him so I don’t have to deal with his broken edges before you glue them back together _ . 

Draco nodded, heavy,  _ heavy _ , unable to get up, unable to stand. 

“I will.” 

Like she arrived, she left, without another word. 

And spending over a  _ year _ with Death Eaters tormenting him inside his own house hadn’t hurt that much. 

____________________________________________________________________________

Harry had asked him to find him in the Quidditch field after his class, so that way he went. 

He smiled to himself, seeing his love fly around the air, enjoying the freshness against the heat of the sun, the rush of dipping his broom just to pull it up again, a rush Draco hadn’t been able to enjoy ever since Harry saved him from the Fiendfyre. 

Then he saw something glow, something unnatural and  _ bad _ going in Harry’s direction, hitting him middle-spin, making him fall. 

Draco ran. 

He pushed everyone in his way to get to him, seeing how someone had lifted him mid-air with a spell before he hit the ground. Everything was in its place, there was no blood, he wasn’t even dirty from grass, floating in front of him. 

But he wasn’t awake. 

“I’m so sorry,” Some boy was saying over and over. 

“What happened?” Draco asked Granger, who was finally letting Harry to the ground, examining him. 

“Emotional outburst of magic. It was an accident.” She informed Draco, performing some quick scans. 

“So why isn’t he awake?” He demanded, heart beating on his throat. 

“I don’t know.” The girl admitted, a grim expression on her face. “He didn’t suffer any impact and the outburst wasn’t that big. He should be fine, by all accounts.”

“Take him to Pomfrey.” Ginny Weasley said, and Draco couldn’t agree more. 

There was no time for jealousy, no time for fighting. 

They followed Granger to the Infirmary, waiting as she answered every question to the best she could, being there and witnessing the facts. 

The three of them were ushered out with Pomfrey’s  _ I have a hunch, get out so I can make some tests _ . Granger kept trying to walk a hole on the floor while he and Weasley sat beside each other.

And if Weasley’s hand tangled on his for comfort, well. They were, after all, on the same boat, loving a man who didn’t seem to be able to live on without any harm coming his way.

It took about three hours and an specialist being rushed in by McGonagall, but Pomfrey came outside with a dubious expression on her face. 

“We figured out what’s wrong with him,” She announced, and Draco was on his feet before he even noticed. 

“Why don’t you look happy, then?” Weasley asked, squeezing Draco’s fingers until they hurt. 

He could understand the feeling. 

“Because we can’t fix it.” The Nurse explained, regret colouring her whole face. 

“How come?” Granger’s voice was the most composed. Of course, she had been to the impossible and back with Potter; if no one else could figure it out, she most likely could. 

“You see, Mr. Abbott’s surge of magic hit Mr. Potter right on his soulmark.” She put her hands together in front of her. “It tangled his mind on the thread that binds them together.”

“What are you trying to say?” Draco insisted, agony ravaging his chest. 

“Only his soulmate can touch that thread,” She explained. “And, since we don’t know who that is, we have to wait and see. Maybe it untangles itself, maybe Mr. Potter is able to break through. For now, we simply don’t know.” 

Draco turned to Weasley frantically. “Well?”

“Well what?” She asked, looking confused. 

“Go there! Wake him up!” He urged her, heart breaking into a million pieces. “You can keep him, I’ll never look his way again, just  _ fix this _ .” 

“Malfoy, what are you talking about?” Her frown deepened. “I’m not Harry’s soulmate.” 

That brought him to the start. “What?”

“I’m not Harry’s soulmate.” She repeated, a comforting tone to her voice. “Why did you think I was?” The girl looked him right in the eye. “I thought  _ you _ were.”

Draco shook his head miserably. “He saw my mark once. Told me he knew who his soulmate was, but refused to talk to me about them.” He looked at Pomfrey. “It can’t be me.” 

“What are you talking about?” Granger asked, looking even more confused than them all. 

“Soulmates, Hermione.” Ginny insisted. “You surely read about this.”

“Yes, and they’re all fairytales. Stories.” Granger said like it was obvious, before faltering. “Aren’t they?” 

He felt out of his depth. “They’re real, Granger. As real as you and me.” And well, fuck it, he unbuttoned four buttons from his shirt and showed her, along with the  _ Sectumsempra _ scars, the little black mark on his shoulder telling the world that he belonged to someone, that he could be loved, it only he found them amongst the other seven billion humans roaming around the Earth. 

The girl paled. “Really?” 

“By Merlin’s beard, there’s  _ something _ Hermione Granger doesn’t know!” Weasley giggled, a little nervous, but honest. 

“Well,-” Granger flushed, “I thought they were all just fairytales, comforting fiction parents told their kids about love and the world.” She defended herself. 

“And having the key to winning the war coming from the Tales of Beedle the Bard didn’t clue you in that there’s a truth to every story?” Weasley dared her once more, very serious. 

“I just-” She started again, but was interrupted. 

“So you mean to say that Mr. Potter could also not know about soulmates?” Pomfrey asked, all business. 

Draco shook his head again. “He talked to me about it. He knows.” 

“He never talked to me about it.” Granger pointed out. 

“Harry, as you probably already learned, is absolutely  _ clueless _ , Malfoy.” Weasley added. “Are you  _ sure _ you were having the same conversation as him?”

“Positive.” He bit his lip. 

“Well, then.” The Nurse spoke again. “We will continue to proceed with tests to try and bring him back. You should go have some supper before the Great Hall runs out, come on.” 

Once again being ushered out, Draco felt powerless like nothing else. Weasley held his hand in support and comfort all the way to the Slytherin table, but it was of no use. 

Draco’s soul ran out of the window. He felt like a ghost, watching himself from above, catatonic in Harry’s absence, like he was the mother engine to everything that moved him. 

By the way he felt, he might as well be just that. 

And now he had to trust Pomfrey and her specialist to find the Golden Boy’s soulmate. There was no win for him in that situation. He’d lose Harry regardless. And it wasn’t like he didn’t know that day was coming. 

Didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. 

____________________________________________________________________

He woke up startled in the middle of the night, like he often did. This time he couldn’t remember the dream, which was odd, but, well -- there was always a dream. 

Draco wrapped himself on his robe, but coming down to the dark Common Room only reminded him that Harry wasn’t there. 

His feed made the decision before him. 

Harry’s invisibility cape was always on the same place, and Draco took it, walking silently through the school’s infinite hallways and paths, finding his way to the Infirmary. 

It was dark and empty, as it should. Spells would warn Madam Pomfrey, who lived on the quarters right next to the Infirmary, if anything happened. 

Harry was the only one there. 

Draco dropped the cape beside his bed and sat on the chair left there, trying to get his heart under control. Trying not to cry, even though he never felt the urge to spill his eyes stronger than right then. 

“Hi, love,” Draco sniffed, voice barely a whisper. “You see, I knew this would happen, one time or another. That I’d lose you to your soulmate, as I should.” He swallowed a sob,  _ down _ . “But I never thought it’d be like this. Never thought it’d hurt this much. I thought I was numb to it already, I-” 

A sound broke through his lips and he covered them with his hand, giving up on keeping his eyes dry. 

“I’m clearly not.” He chuckled, no joy to it. “I just wanted to say that I love you, no matter what. No matter who you’re with. I just wish you’re happy, and safe. That you finally find the peace you deserve in this lifetime. You have already seen entirely too much war.” Draco pursed his lips. 

“I’m not sure why I’m here.” He admitted, and it felt weird, saying it out loud. “I guess I just needed some sort of closure before they find your soulmate to bring you back.” Draco took a deep breath. “So. That’s it. It was very good while it lasted.” 

He bent his face, teardrops falling on Harry’s face. They’d be dry before morning come; before someone else came to take Harry from him forever, love him like he deserved to be loved. 

“Goodbye, Harry.” Draco, very slowly, let his face dip forward even more, touching his forehead with the boy’s, just once more. Just one last time. 

And then something  _ zinged _ through his body, electric pulse to his spine, and he  _ saw _ . 

He saw the golden threads, the intricate of magic and humanity of which Harry was composed. He saw every line of his destiny, every square of the quilt of his past. 

And he saw, too, a little knot. It took  _ nothing _ from him to reach out and  _ pull _ . 

Blinking his eyes open through the rush in his ears, he heard someone coughing. His eyes focused once again on Harry, who was opening his eyes, blinking lazily against the darkness of the room. 

Draco’s heart was bursting from his chest, but all he did was reach Harry’s glasses to him and open the curtains to the window beside them, letting the lights from outside illuminate the room. 

Madam Pomfrey was on him in a second, making Draco take a step back so she could examine him. 

“Mr. Potter, you seem to be fine.” She declared after a couple of minutes. Draco still couldn’t react, overwhelmed into stillness. “Do you know what happened?” 

“I remember flying, then a light, and then… nothing.” He checked himself with his eyes, sitting up. “Did I fall?” 

“No, Miss Granger was able to break your fall before you hit the ground.” Pomfrey announced. “The spell hit your soulmate mark, tangling your mind to it.” Her explanation was on point. “Do you know how you came through from it?” 

“I… soulmate?” Potter looked clueless. “What are you talking about?”

“Merlin and Morgana both!” Pomfrey threw her arms in the air. “Do  _ none _ of the muggleborns know about soulmates? I’ll have a talk to Minerva, honestly-” The woman went on mumbling about how absurd it was while she went into her office, presumably to firecall the director and tell her that Harry was awake. 

“Harry,” Draco finally found his voice, a mash of thorns coming up his throat. “You saw my mark.” His lower lip trembled, damnit. “You told me you knew your soulmate.”

“No I did  _ not _ ,” Harry was frowning. “I didn’t even know that was a thing until right now. What does that mean?” 

“ _ Harry _ ,” He had never felt so nervous before. “You  _ told me _ . You said you  _ knew-” _

“Oh, you’re talking about the mark thing?” Harry shrugged. “I thought you were talking about Voldemort.”

“Voldem-  _ bloody hell, Potter! _ ” Draco exploded, angry, exhilarated, stunned. “I told you-”

“You asked me about the one who  _ marked _ me.” He reminded him. “I thought you were talking about him.”

“And when I asked why weren’t you with him…?”

“I thought you were asking again about the day I died.” Was his simple, clueless, ridiculous answer. “And I don’t like talking about it.” But then his arms were wrapped around the Slytherin, bringing him close. “So you’re my soulmate?” 

“You saw my mark!” He protested, but couldn’t help the way he melted to the touch. Harry was the sun, the soul and the ground, Draco had never needed anything else. 

“That thing on your shoulder?” The green-eyed boy asked. “Yeah, I thought it was funny that we both had the same mark, but chalked it off to coincidence, or life debt, or something.” Hr shrugged again. “Wouldn’t be the first time something weird like that happened to me.” 

He put his pajama bottom down just a little, showing the mark on his hip. The mark that matched Draco’s perfectly. 

“You  _ fool _ ,” Draco hit him in the chest, but Harry just smiled his sunny smile, keeping him close with strong arms around his waist. “You wretched, ridiculous  _ fool- _ ”

But then Harry smiled, and kissed him, and Draco could feel his body fill up with soul again, light up with their bond as he put his hand over Harry’s mark and Harry did the same with him. 

He wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, just kissing and holding each other, when Draco heard someone clearing up their throat to get their attention. 

“I suppose the mystery’s solved, then?” McGonagall was looking at them, half chastising, half relieved. 

Their bond was alight around them, threads of gold and silver twirling alive, tangling them together for eternity. 

And, honestly, Draco should have known. He had never belonged in anyone else’s arms, not like this. 

Draco smiled sheepishly. “There has been some… miscommunication.” He admitted. “My apologies, Mistress.” 

“Not to worry, Mr. Malfoy.” Was her answer. “I suppose I have been amiss with my duties in providing a thorough education on Wizarding culture to muggleborns.” She admitted, regretful. “Starting on Monday, I plan on fixing it.” 

“Good.” Harry was smiling, the shameless little shit that he was. “While on it, Headmistress, can we maybe talk about sleeping arrangements?” 

Draco blushed and McGonagall rolled her eyes, turning to Dumbledore’s portrait to their right. He had been chuckling all along, amused by the whole scene. 

“You knew this, didn’t you?” The Headmistress demanded, annoyed. “You still keep things from me, even now.” 

“I suspected.” Dumbledore admitted, looking at the couple with fondness. “You have to admit it, Minerva. This is poetic justice to its finest.”

The woman sighed. “We can talk about you changing rooms in the morning, Mr. Potter. Right now, back to your rooms. And  _ please _ ,” She begged as Harry stood up and wrapped a robe around himself, ready to go. “ _ Please _ , stay out of trouble? I can’t take those death-scares anymore, Potter. Your father already tested my heart’s strength enough, I will end up having a heart-attack.” 

Harry bit his lower lip and held Draco’s hand, smile alight. “I think from now on Draco will keep me in line.” He turned to the Slytherin, melted in a goo puddle beside that wonderful, ridiculous man. He could certainly understand what Lily Potter felt, if Harry’s father had been anything like this. “Won’t you, love?” 

“You have my word.” Draco told the professor, his whole heart on that statement. 

“Merlin help me.” McGonagall answered. “Your rooms, you two, and  _ you- _ ” She pointed a finger at Dumbledore, who barked out a laugh. “You and I need to  _ talk _ .” 

Draco and Harry rushed forward, before she decided to change her mind and punish them somehow, laughing their asses off. 

Because everything was once again right with the world, and Harry was  _ his _ . Harry was  _ his _ . 

And now,  _ now _ , truthfully, he couldn’t, wouldn’t, didn’t even  _ want _ to ask for anything more, ever, in his life.

He had  _ everything _ , and it could never be taken away from him. 

He had never felt peace, but he was sure it felt a whole lot like his hand on Harry Potter’s hand as they went back to being teenagers. 

__________________________________________________________________________

“You two are  _ disgusting _ ,” Pansy told him, making Draco frown. “In a good way, I mean. But you are.”

They were, once again, soaking up the sun. Harry laid aside Draco, his arm a pillow for the blond boy, hand over the mark on his shoulder. Draco had his hand on Harry’s hip and their bond sang around them, a lullaby of a happiness he didn’t think he deserve, but would take anyway. 

“You’re just jealous that your bond isn’t  _ visible _ like mine and Draco’s.” Harry teased her, grinning. Because yes, the golden and silver threads were apparently visible to  _ everybody  _ when they touched each other’s marks, which apparently was  _ not common at all, Mr. Potter, we have never seen such a thing _ , the specialist said, and well. Just another weirdness to amount the fabric of Harry Potter’s life. 

Draco was glad, though. It was visible proof. It didn’t keep the people who loathed him away, but it helped solidify his own belief that he wasn’t deluding himself. Harry was there to stay in his life. 

It felt like a dream.

“Maybe.” The girl admitted, laying back down on the grass beside Blaise. 

Harry kissed Draco’s temple, breathing him in a little before speaking again. 

“Anything else I should know about soulmates?” 

Draco pondered on his answer, deciding to play a little. “Well, you should probably know it before we do it, so… we can have children.” 

He expected sputtering, speechlessness. He didn’t expect how Harry’s eyes lit up with those words.

“Really?”

And Draco’s heart skipped a beat. For a moment, he wished it was.

But then he rolled his eyes and smirked, showing up the joke. “You’re ridiculous, Harry Potter.”

Harry’s smile softened as he leaned to kiss him again, just a peck on the lips. “Yes, I am. But I’m  _ your _ ridiculous.” 

Draco smiled, shut his eyes. Soaked up the sun, his sun.

Because yes. Yes he was. 

“Mine.” Draco whispered back, feeling the arm around him squeeze him in encouragement, just a little. 

And while Draco had a little mark on his chest promising all his love to Harry Potter, he couldn’t care less about what other people thought when they saw them, because he had all the love he wanted, all the love he could wish for. 

And he didn’t have to hope anymore. Because Harry felt the same about him.

And it was all he could ever ask for. 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it!   
> See yall next time ;)


End file.
